Drabble Attack
by Candyland
Summary: A collection Professor Layton drabbles and short fics, mostly humorous stories under five hundred words. — Desk from Above: A portal gun, Professor? —
1. Trademark Curiosity

**AN:** This game has spawned more plunnies than I thought possible. And to think I picked it up on a whim when I saw a poster for it at GameStop because I'm a sucker for puzzles and brainteasers. L'anyhoodle, here we go! I do not own Professor Layton or any related characters.

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**Trademark Curiosity**

Luke watched curiously as the professor walked into the room. Layton had one hand to his chin in a trademark thinking pose, and he was murmuring to himself. It didn't take a puzzle master to see that the great Professor Layton was deep in thought about something.

After a moment, Layton glanced at his apprentice. "Luke, my boy, have you seen my hat? It seems to have gone missing."

The boy blinked, startled. "No, professor. I haven't. Isn't it on the hat rack, where it usually is?" Layton was usually fastidious about such things.

"No, it's not." A frown crossed Layton's face.

It was on the tip of Luke's tongue to suggest that perhaps someone had borrowed it when they both heard a giggle from down the hall. They both paused for a moment, glanced at each other, then moved as one person to the door and crept down the corridor, following the laughter.

They peered through the slightly-ajar door leading into Flora's room...and found the answer to the mystery.

The girl had Layton's trademark top hat in her hands and was trying it on, modeling it in front of her mirror, trying it at different angles. She reached out and selected a pretty yellow flower from a vase on her bureau; she carefully tucked the stem into the hat-band and began the modeling anew.

Layton cleared his throat delicately.

Flora jumped and spun around. "Oh, I...I mean, I..." She took the hat off and held it out to him. "...I just wanted to try it on."

Smiling, Layton took the hat from her and put it on his own head, the bright yellow blossom still perched on the brim. He studied his reflection for a moment, then struck a thinking pose. "I think this is a good look for me, don't you?"

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**PS.** _Written over on my LiveJournal for a drabble request thing I did. Meimi gave me the prompt of "Flora is curious about the Professor's hat," and this was the result. The plunnies for this game are biting furiously, so…expect more ficcage xD Thanks for reading, all! Much love!_


	2. Of Greatest Urgency

AN: Inspired by a strip from the webcomic Sheldon. No ownage!

**Of Greatest Urgency**

There was a poof of smoke, and a figure appeared on the sidewalk behind them. A tall figure, wearing what appeared to be a more adult version of Luke's usual clothing, right down to the blue cap.

"Professor! Luke!" the young man cried, rushing towards them. "I'm Luke's future self! I've come from the future to tell you something of great importance! But I only have ten seconds to do it!"

"What do you want to tell us?" Layton asked, too startled to question beyond that.

"I'm here to tell you that—" older-Luke stopped and looked down at his younger self. "Wow, I was a really adorable little kid, wasn't I?" He shook his head. "But what I need to tell you is—"

POOF!

He was gone.

Luke stared for a moment before looking up at the professor. "I don't change much, do I?"

"It would seem not."

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**PS.** _A drabble and a half, exactly one hundred and fifty words. Thanks for reading! Much love!_


	3. Getting an Early Start

**AN: **Random plunnie inspired by a comment on the Layton LJ community. I don't own it!

**Getting an Early Start**

Mrs. Layton became fully aware that her son would grow up to be someone very remarkable when she walked into the dining room one day and found Hershel (aged three weeks) sitting on the table with a pencil and paper. She glanced at the paper.

_I have two types of baby food and one flavor of juice at each meal. If I have five different flavors of baby food and three flavors of juice, how many different combinations can I make?_

He was doing a puzzle?

Well, that was interesting.

Maybe this had something to do with his top-hat fascination…

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**PS. **_I call this a "I just could not help myself" story. Thanks for reading, all. Much love!_


	4. Addicted

AN: I was asked to write a drabble about Simon, and told it would be "wizard." So I ran with it, and produced yet another piece o' crack in one hundred words. I don't own Layton. Thanks!

**Addicted**

No one could ever know. Simon had decided that a long time ago when he had first started this. If they found out, it would be bad for him. Very bad. They might try to break his addiction, saying it was for his own good. But he had to do it, he just had to. All the uncool people were doing it, after all. And his wizard needed him. The dice called to him, and he always had to make just one more saving throw. So he crept away, night after night, to play Dungeons and Dragons.

…he needed help.


	5. Stolen

**AN: **I don't own Professor Layton. This was written on a prompt of "Why does Don Paolo hate Layton so much?" Hmm…crack. In drabble form. Thanks for reading!

**Stolen**

He stole it from me. He did. Don't listen to what he says. I had it first, and he took it away.

And I will NEVER forgive him for it.

That was my trademark. MINE. And he STOLE IT. He claims he doesn't know why I'm so bent on his destruction. BAH! He knows! He just doesn't want to acknowledge that I went there first, and that he just wasn't clever enough to think of such a trademark on his own.

So watch your back, Layton. I'm coming for you, mark my words.

And then I'll get my hat back.


	6. Identical

**AN: **The prompt for this was that there are two Lukes, and Layton and Flora are trying to tell them apart. I just couldn't help myself with this one. I don't own Layton. Thanks for reading!

**Identical**

"This is preposterous," Layton sighed, looking back and forth between the two young men standing in front of him. He put one hand to his forehead beneath his hat brim; he strongly suspected that one of them was Don Paolo in disguise, but the imitation was incredibly good. "All right, one more time. Which one of you is the real Luke?"

The two boys, both clad in an older version of Luke's favored blue jacket and cap, immediately raised their hands. "I am Spartacus! Err, I mean, I'm the real Luke!" they  both chimed (more or less).

Layton resisted the urge to facepalm. "Good heavens…"

"Professor?" Flora said softly, stepping up behind him. She put a reassuring hand on his arm and offered a small smile, her cheeks coloring prettily. "Would it be all right if I tried to tell them apart?"

"If you think you can, my dear, then be my guest," he nodded and gestured for her to proceed.

"Thank you." She stepped past him and walked up to the two young men. First, she inspected them both closely, scrutinizing their faces with great care and attention. Then she moved in a slow circle around them, still engaged in her in-depth study of them both.

And finally, she grabbed them each, one at a time, and gave them a kiss on the cheek.

The one on the right gaped at her.

The one on the left flushed a bright crimson, stammered a few syllables, and fell over sideways.

Flora smiled and turned back to the stunned Professor Layton. "That," she pointed to the young man now sprawled on the ground, wide-eyed and mumbling, "is the real Luke."


	7. The Truth Comes Out

**AN: **Written for my best friend on a prompt of "What's under Layton's hat?" I don't own Layton. Thanks!

**The Truth Comes Out**

"Err, Professor? There are two, um, gentlemen here to see you," Luke managed, glancing at the odd pair warily.

Especially when the shorter of the two (a blonde kid in a red coat) pushed past him. "We're here for the stone, old man."

"Brother, don't be rude!" the other, a large person wearing armor, chided in a child's voice.

Layton sighed. "Oh, very well." He lifted his hat to reveal a dark red stone sitting on his head.

"Professor?"

"This is the Philosopher's Stone, Luke, my boy."

"…so who're they?"

The armor piped up again. "My name is Alphonse Elric…"


	8. Competition

AN: Prompt was legal!Luke and young!Luke competing for Layton's attention. This one was fun to write. I don't own the games. Thanks for reading, all! Much love!

**Competition**

Strange things were happening in the world of Professor Layton.

At first he wrote it off as boys being boys or some such thing. One would clean the house and beam at the praise. The other cooked a marvelous dinner and was positively glowing when given a compliment. It was actually quite pleasant, and they were doing him any number of favors along the way.

But after a while it became increasingly difficult to ignore the odd behavior of the two Lukes, both elder and younger, and he finally had to put a stop to it.

"All right, that's enough. Both of you!" Layton thundered from where he stood in the middle of the study, arms crossed, his ever-present top-hat making him look taller than he actually was. At his words, both Lukes froze in place, poised in mid-action; they both gave him looks that were a bit guilty as they awaited his next words.

"I don't know what you two are trying to accomplish, but this has gone far enough," he said sternly, turning first to the older of the two. "Luke, my boy, you will clean up the broken plates. I don't know why you wanted to spin them on sticks like that, but please get the ceramic off the floor."

"Yessir…" the elder Luke said meekly, moving to obey.

"And you, Luke, my…err, other boy," Layton turned a measuring eye on his actual apprentice. "I do not know how you got this ramp in here in the first place, but you will turn off the motorcycle and extinguish the burning hoops immediately, and remove it all."

"Aww…"


	9. Public Spectacle

**AN: **Written for a prompt on the Professor Layton fanworks meme over on LJ. The prompt: Caramelldansen. Since I am  not an artist!anon by any stretch (unless you count intentionally awful stick figures comics that I affectionately call Minimalist Theatre). I don't own Professor Layton. Thanks for reading! Much love!

**Public Spectacle**

Luke stared.

He didn't mean to, really, and he knew from the Professor's lessons that staring was rude and relatively ungentlemanly, but this was one of those situations where he just could not help it. Every attempt to drag his eyes away resulted in his gaze coming full circle to end up right back on the interesting-looking girl on the other side of the street.

As though on cue, the good Professor appeared behind him with the grocery bag cradled safely in one arm. "Luke, my boy, it is not polite to gawk. Especially at a lady."

"B-but Professor..." Luke said, pointing. "What is she doing?"

Layton chuckled and looked up. "Well, she seems to be...err..."

The girl in question seemed to be dancing (and making a public spectacle of herself in the process). She was bouncing her hips back and forth, from side to side, with a very quick rhythm. And she had her hands up by her head, and was...flapping them, somehow? And even more peculiar was the music that accompanied her dancing. Layton could only pick one word out, but he was sure he misheard, because it sounded like "caramel dancing."

How in blazes could a sweet, sticky confectionary dance?

"...Professor?" Luke piped up again, more curious than ever.

Professor Layton started to open his mouth...and then closed it again. No, there were some things in this world that even he couldn't find a puzzle to match.


	10. Breaked

**AN: **Again, written for the Professor Layton fanworks meme on LJ. I don't own any of the characters here, I just borrow them for playtiemz. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks, all!

**Breaked**

This was not how things were supposed to go, Layton reflected. Not at all.

He was aware that this was one of his duties as a father (so to speak), and that if he had not gone along with this, it would have destroyed a young life and sent a teenager into a downward spiral of despair and hatred, and overall just shattered the very fabric of reality as they all knew it. And he had also been fairly well prepared for this to be a frightening experience.

But he had not anticipated anything of this nature.

It had started as a pleasant drive on a country road under pleasant blue skies. And he had passed the wheel of his treasured Laytonmobile off to his passenger, a young and eager learner who was thrilled at the chance to get into the driver's seat and learn how to drive a car.

In hindsight, even the renowned puzzle master hadn't a clue how things had gone so far south so quickly.

The hindsight came while he was sitting in the middle of the road beside the new driver. The car--or rather, what was left of the car--was scattered across the landscape in a circle that ran probably fifteen feet in diameter. There was nothing left intact, save for the steering wheel.

Which remained clutched tightly in Flora's hands.

"Flora, my dear," Layton said, his jangling nerves making it impossible for him to keep his voice from shaking as he addressed her, "what exactly happened?"

She lowered the wheel to her lap as her eyes welled with tears. "W-well...there was a caterpillar in the middle of the road. A-and I didn't want to hit it. S-so I p-panicked and p-put it in rev-verse..."

"...how fast were you going?"

"F-fifty-five kilometers an hour..."

There was a thunk as Layton fell backwards, sprawled on his back on the road. This could not be happening. This was impossible. This could not get worse--

A raindrop landed on his face.


	11. The Science Fair

**AN: **Prompt was Layton and Don Paolo being kindergarten enemies. I don't own any of it. Thanks!

**The Science Fair**

All of the children brought their science projects in for the show that day. Their parents were coming, and they would all get to show off what they had spent so much time working on. And then they would choose a winner from all the projects.

Little Paulie was determined that his would win. How could it possibly lose? He already knew that he was brilliant at science, even as young as he was, and his project was decidedly amazing. He had actually found a way to create electricity using two potatoes, some string, a plaid oven mitt, and a very stressed gerbil. He could actually make a lightbulb turn on it with it!

Oh yeah. He was going to win.

The other kids displayed their works. He privately thought that they were pathetic, but he said nothing. And when it was finally his turn and the lightbulb flickered to life, the audience ooh-ed and aah-ed appreciatively, just as they were supposed to, and applauded a bit more loudly than they had for some of the others. This was so easy…

The teacher stood up. "And now the final project for today, Hershel Layton."

And Paul found himself gaping in amazement as the other boy proudly presented a full-blown perpetual motion machine, something that had previously been called impossible.

He gaped even more when Layton won the first prize.

And he was _still_ gaping when the one who had stolen his victory wandered up to him and offered him a handshake. "Paul! I really liked your project!" Hershel said with a smile.

…he liked the project? What kind of nonsense was that? It was an affront, an insult! And while the stupid Layton was holding that stupid trophy? Oooh, this meant war. Paul made a promise then and there. He would get Hershel Layton, sooner or later. He would GET HIM.

But the final insult didn't really come until nearly three decades later, when he confronted Layton in the home of a wealthy baron, recently deceased, his ruse having been discovered by the very person he had been so eager to trap with it. He dropped his disguise, now using the name Don Paolo. It sounded more evil. And he was certain that his old rival would know him and tremble at the sight of him!

And Layton didn't have a bloody clue who he was.

…well, wasn't that just wonderful.


	12. Artifactual

**AN:** One of about fifty short (or not-so-short) ficlets that I wrote for my NaNoWriMo project this year. I want to get them posted before the end of the year so I can start oh-nine with a clean slate, so...apologies in advance. There will be quite a few getting posted here in the next few days. I don't own Professor Layton. Thanks! Much love!

**Artifactual**

Puzzles were an enormous part of Professor Layton's life, and as such was a large part of what he taught his apprentice, Luke. But when push came to shove, puzzles were not his true profession, and so there were times when they had to set the riddles and mind teasers aside in favor of other pursuits.

It was for this reason that they found themselves out here like this, far away from the nearest puzzle book. To be fair, they were miles and miles away from the nearest modern convenience as well. All right, time to be completely honest: they were miles away from civilization, period. Well, any current civilization. Ancient civilizations, however, were much closer at hand, and providing them with something of great interest to study.

Luke absently brushed away an errant insect that had taken to buzzing around his ear and peered over the Professor's shoulder at the artifact on the table. They were seated inside a tent on the excavation site, and one of the other workers had just brought the piece in for the Professor to analyze. Luke watched closely, observing every move as the Professor used a small brush to carefully and gently clean the small statue of dust.

Finally, Layton set the brush down and moved to the side, allowing Luke an unobstructed view of the artifact. "Well, my boy?" he said, absently brushing his hands together, an action that released a small cloud of dust from his gloves. "What do you see?"

Luke tugged at his own gloves without really thinking about it and leaned in closer to study the item. He was the apprentice to a great archaelogist, and certainly no slouch with history himself. Quickly, he racked his brain, and decided to go with the obvious. "The inlays look like jade…which probably means that it's an idol of one of their gods?" He glanced up to see if he was on the right track.

Layton was nodding his approval. "And what is the significane of the jade?"

Wrinkles furrowed Luke's brow as he thought. "Religious, mostly. It was used in their most important carvings because a lot of things in their lives were centered around their gods." He was determined not to say anything to the effect of it looking like a six inch tall light brown man with a very odd looking beard and extremely questionable taste in hats.

"Correct. You are certainly improving!" Layton said, visibly pleased at his apprentice's success.

Luke was about to reply when another of the diggers on the excavation entered the tent, his hands carefully cradling something wrapped in a cloth. "Professor Layton? We found something else we would like you to take a look at, if you're not busy, sir?"

The cloth was carefully opened, revealing jagged pieces of what appeared to be oddly-formed clay. As the other man absented himself to return to the dig, Layton once again turned to Luke. "Judging by the shape, Luke, what would you believe this to be?"

A moment of scrutiny gave Luke his answer. "I would say a piece of pottery."

"What is this symbol on it called?" Layton asked, pointing to a small shape engraved into the dried clay.

"A glyph."

"Excellent!" Layton studied the glyph for a moment, then gave his apprentice an amused look. "All right, my boy, I know you won't have the answer to this one just yet, but would you care to hazard a guess as to what this particular glyph means?"

Luke frowned and looked at the glyph carefully, an odd configuration of lines and dots. On a piece of broken pottery, no less, found near the site of an ancient village…after a moment, he looked up at the Professor and gave the only answer he could really think of. "Don't play ball in the house?"


	13. High Dining

**AN:** Another NaNo fic. Don't own Layton. Thanks!

**High Dining**

Luke was a boy who had not had a great deal of experience with fancy parties or high dining or anything of the sort before he came to stay with the Professor. All right, to tell the truth, he had absolutely NO experience whatsoever with things like that. If there was more than one fork and one spoon on the table, he sometimes got a little bit confused.

Oh, he was proficient in basic manners, the kind of thing one actually used in one's day to day life. And he had learned some things here and there along the way as he had gone on all his travels and adventures with Professor Layton. But still, every once in a while they would encounter some sort of occasion that would leave Luke staring blankly at the odd assortment of plates, bowls, cups, and utensils that made up a single place setting.

Now was one of those times.

It was a gala ball being thrown by someone of the nobility (Luke had no idea what the occasion was that would warrant such a party, but he had decided not to worry about it too much), and everyone was dressed up. Luke himself was wearing a nice suit; it was a bit less comfortable than his usual blue blazer and cap ensemble. And he was seated between his mentor and the newest member adopted into their odd little family, Flora Reinhold. She had only been with them for a few weeks, and when she had learned of the party, she had shyly asked if she could go with them, a request that the Professor had happily agreed to.

Layton was chatting with his other neighbor, something about a high-profile puzzle that the Professor had recently solved. Luke watched for a moment, then turned to see how Flora was doing. She was such a shy girl, even around him and the Professor. He hoped she was holding up in this sort of setting…

Flora was smiling at the person on her other side. She was holding up the plate from her place setting and examining the pretty blue ceramic with a very practiced eye. "It's Wedgwood, isn't it?" she said. "It's lovely."

…oh yes. Flora was the daughter of a Baron. She probably knew a thing or three about fancy parties and holding highbrow conversations like that.

Which meant that Luke was on his own. Wonderful.

So he busied himself once again with studying the wide array of things in front of him. To pass a few seconds, he started counting. He ultimately counted eight pieces of silverware (three forks, three spoons, and two knives, all in different sizes), three plates (two of which were stacked), two glasses, and a napkin. And a place card with his name on it.

After a moment, he tapped his mentor on the shoulder. "Professor?"

Layton was a few seconds longer in finishing the conversation with his neighbor before turning back to his apprentice. "What is it, Luke?"

He pointed at the place setting. "Why does it have to be so complicated?"

Layton opened his mouth, then closed it again. He opened it one more time, and this time he finally said, "To be honest, Luke…I have no idea."


	14. The Man in the Tree

**AN:** This one is maskalade's fault. She enabled on this little crossover. I don't own either of the subjects referenced here. Thanks for reading! Much love!

**The Man in the Tree**

Trailing after his mentor into the jungle was, as always, a very interesting endeavor. Luke enjoyed both aspects of his apprentice status with the good Professor: the puzzle solving detective work, and the archaeological detective work. The boy had a very strong love of putting different pieces and clues together to find that elusive answer, whether it be a simple riddle or a sweeping mystery of some ancient, long dead civilization.

It was for this reason that he was now tromping after Layton through the thick foliage of the rain forest in search of an excavation site. They had found something there, and wanted the expert's opinion on all of it. So off they went into the unknown, hacking their way through trees that seemed determined to actively grab onto them and pull them back and halt their progress.

Fortunately, Professor Layton was proving to be no slouch with a machete.

After a while and a victory over a particularly stubborn branch, Luke couldn't keep himself from chuckling, though it actually came out more like a giggle. "You show that tree who's boss, Professor."

It was official, he decided: the heat was finally getting to him.

Layton glanced back over his shoulder at his apprentice, giving him an odd look. His next words unknowingly gave credence to one of Luke's private suspicions regarding his mentor and said mentor's potential ability to read minds. "Luke, are you feeling all right, my boy?" He turned back completely. "Perhaps we should stop for a moment?"

"If you say so," Luke said, examining a nearby rock carefully before taking a seat on it. He looked around at the surrounding scenery. "It's really pretty out here. Except for all the mosquitos," he was forced to amend with a slight yelp as he swatted one of the aforementioned insects on his arm.

"There are plenty of things in this world that you will never see sitting around in an office, Luke," Layton said knowingly. "And you will never learn as much by studying in a classroom as you will by going out and seeing all these things."

Luke smiled. "This is definitely better than school!"

But as he was looking around, up towards the dense jungle canopy, he thought he saw something move. Luke frowned and studied the spot carefully. There! There it was again! Someone, or rather something, was up there watching them from the high branches in the trees.

He stood up, barely hearing Layton's inquisitive, "Luke?" And he kept his eyes on that spot.

…was that…

…a person?

For a moment, Luke would have sworn up and down that he saw a man in the tree, bent and stooped over, with his weight resting on his hands like gorillas did in pictures the boy had seen, and studying them with a curious intent identical to Luke's from behind very long hair.

A hand clapped down on Luke's shoulder, and he instinctively jumped and turned to face Layton. "Luke, what in the world are you staring at?" the professor asked.

"I saw something up there!" Luke said, pointing towards the spot where he had seen the strange man. But unsurprisingly, there was nothing there. There was no sign that anyone or anything had been there at all. "But…I saw it, Professor. Honest, I did. It looked like a man!"

"I'm sure you did see something, my boy," Layton said. "It was probably a monkey or some such thing. There are plenty of them out here. Now come, I'm sure we're almost to the site."

Luke glanced back up at the treetops one more time before he sighed and followed Layton as they blazed a trail through the dense greenery. Strange, though. As they walked away, he could have sworn he heard a loud yell that sounded nothing like a monkey. Almost like a yodel, except not quite.

How very odd.


	15. Hyped

**AN:** I don't own Layton. Thanks!

**Hyped**

"WHEE!!"

Usually when Layton walked through the front door, he heard things like calls welcoming him home, or footsteps rushing to greet him, or occasionally the sound of an argument between Luke and Flora, or frequently just the sounds of everyday household life, like pots clanging or the squeak of the rocking chair in the study or any number of other little noises here and there.

Today, however, he heard a high-pitched cry of "WHEE!" as he walked in. It was definitely not anything he had ever heard before from either of the children under his care. There had been screaming and yelling and shouting and threats of all sorts of things (especially as the two reached those delightful teenaged years), but this noise seemed more at home in an amusement park than in his home. Although he hoped that whatever amusement park it ended up in did not have any runaway Ferris Wheels trying to kill innocent bystanders.

No little confused by the odd sound, Layton wandered further into the house, looking around for the source of it. Maybe a wild animal had gotten inside or something…

Suddenly, Luke appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen. His eyes were wide and alarmed, and he immediately ran towards the Professor with his arms outstretched. "Professor! Help me! She's gone mad!" He grabbed Layton's jacket in tight fists and tugged at it desperately, frantically. "Help me!"

"Calm down, my boy!" Layton said, alarmed by his apprentice's uncharacteristic outburst. He put his hands on Luke's shoulders and squeezed, trying to will the boy to take a deep breath and tell him what was happening. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"It's Flora, Professor! She's gone out of her mind!" Luke insisted, shaking his head. "She was drinking something that a friend said she could try. I think she said it was called a mocha or something. And then she just went bonkers! Jumping around and making noises and climbing things and..." He looked at his mentor entreatingly. "…and I don't know what happened, but she's scary, Professor! She's scary!" That last was almost a wail.

A mocha? Layton frowned as he heard a crash upstairs. He released Luke and stepped back; his apprentice released him. "Luke, stay here." With slow, cautious steps, he crossed the room and made his way upstairs, following the sound of crashing and giggling until he stood outside Flora's door. He hesitated, then knocked.

"Come iiiiiiiin!" a familiar female voice trilled from inside, followed by a high-pitched giggle.

That alone was incredibly alarming. She never giggled like that.

The Professor opened the door and peered into the room. It took him a moment to find her, but when he did, he actually gaped. Whatever was in that mocha, one thing was for certain: he was never going to allow such a thing in the house again. Ever. They were obviously the work of some great supernatural force of evil, if what he was seeing now was any indication at all. "Flora, my dear, what in the world are you doing on the ceiling?"

"I CAN TASTE COLORS!"


	16. Desk from Above!

**AN: **Another story brought to you by the Layton anon meme. The prompt was for a crossover with Layton and Portal. And lo, there was crack. They asked for fanart, but I just couldn't get this image out of my head. I own neither Layton, nor Portal, and the last line was inspired by The Simpsons. Thanks for reading, all! Much love!

**Desk from Above!**

Luke knew he'd done it this time.

Oh, he hadn't been trying to do it, really he hadn't. But when the Professor had brought the odd looking gun thing home and told him that he was not to touch it, it sparked the kind of curiosity that would have inspired any child to attempt to bend the rules just a little.

He just hadn't quite counted on the gun doing, well, THAT.

And now, standing amidst the wreckage of what had moments ago been Layton's office, Luke rather wished he had obeyed. He still didn't know what the gun was or how it had done those things, or where the birds had come from, but he rather hoped the Professor would tell him now.

After he was done scolding, anyway.

Apparently satisfied with Luke's very real contrition and promises that yes, he would clean up the mess, Layton fell silent for a moment. It was then that Luke decided to venture the question that had been bothering him since the thing had come into the house. "Professor, what is that thing, anyway?"

Layton glanced at it, then sighed. "It's called a portal gun, my boy."

"A portal gun?"

"It had the rather unusual ability to shoot what are called portals. One end is orange, the other is blue," Layton explained, picking the gun in question up. "A colleague of mine at the university has been working on this for quite some time, and finally finished a working prototype. He asked me to hold onto it for him for a day or two."

"Why did he need you to watch it for him, Professor?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but he said something about a woman named Gladys or something like that," Layton said, then frowned. "I seem to recall him also mentioning something about cake and lies, but I don't quite know what that was all about."

"How does it work?"

Layton frowned. "I'm not entirely sure myself. It's rather complicated, but it has been proven possible for people to actually move through space using these portals."

"…is that how the birds got inside?"

"Yes, Luke," Layton's voice became a bit strained at that. "The portal blast that went out the window apparently managed to send a few of them in here. And the one that you managed to shoot onto the floor beneath my desk," a glance to the side made him cringe at the broken wooden heap, "sent it careening through the ceiling."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Luke said in a small voice.

"Best be getting this cleaned up, Luke. I suspect it will take some time," Layton said, tucking the gun carefully under one arm. Luke assumed that the Professor would be taking it somewhere out of the boy's reach, quite possibly up to the Professor's own room; in terms of keeping things away from Luke, that was the safest place in the house. For this, he did not blame the man at all. "And Luke, next time I tell you not to touch something, I encourage to remember this and listen."

"Yes, Professor."

"Remember, my boy," Layton said as he strolled out of the office towards the stairs, "in this household, we obey the laws of physics."


End file.
